The reward – Many years ago, maybe too many centuries, the Venetians painted their boats of black for the reward of life. Thus, the color of wood that was once of every will became darkness. Between each city there’s an amazing number of towers reaching for the sky as if they were promises that today are but past wishes. Trevvizo, Vicenza, Venice… we hang the strings of our hearts in each tower and we head forward to each city with the close attention of one who wants to drink more than what the eyes will be able to keep. Yesterday we were in Rovigo or Padova? The days confuse our turns. Today they confused us to Mestre, a city not far from Venezia where we’re received by the smiles of Diego and Marco.

We go down the two floors of the “Flat Club” until we’re underground enough to be rots that seek fruit.

We invited the wolves that live here to our boat. We painted it black and traded our one way ticket for an iron stare. Marco, at the end of the boat cradles Jorri’ s fingers while Susanathrows her longing to the sweet waters. I paint the boat of night, for here I miss every ink except for black (and life is not reward enough when I miss one to whom give it back) Joao Rui